Read Escaping Reality Page 7


  listed price is to have them brought across the street to me, and whoever

  delivers the items will be well rewarded.”

  I press my hand to my face and turn away from him, walking to the

  end of the hallway to stare at the apartment that is not mine, but is all I

  have. What have I done by bringing Liam here?

  He’s determined to help me now and I can’t tell him who I am, but he

  has money to uncover whatever he wants to uncover. Lots of money. If my

  handler doesn’t have my bases well covered, Liam will find out who I am. It

  could get him and me both killed.

  “Perfect,” I hear Liam say, and I can tell he’s moved closer. “And just

  to be clear,” he continues, “I have the suite indefinitely, if you could make

  sure that’s on record.”

  Indefinitely. The idea that I might be across the street from this man,

  and I can simply ignore him, is pure insanity. You don’t have to be a rocket

  scientist to know that you don’t just ignore Liam Stone if he doesn’t want to

  be ignored.

  I turn back around to find him closer than I thought, with only a few

  steps separating us at the most, and I look away, knowing I’m not quite as

  collected as I need to be. In the process, my gaze lands on his flat, naked

  stomach. My mouth goes instantly dry and not just because of his lack of

  clothing, which would be enough in itself, but it seems I’ve found Liam’s

  hinted-at tattoo. The number 3.14 is etched in his skin over the Pi

  mathematical symbol, which frames his belly button. Beneath the symbol

  are rows of numbers I know represent infinite value, all aligned as an

  inverted triangle, and trailing downward to alluringly disappear into his

  pants.

  “What options do we have for food at this hour?” Liam asks the hotel

  operator, or whomever he is talking to, and the sound of his voice snaps my

  gaze upward. His eyes meet mine, and now his amusement is laced with

  male satisfaction. He leans on the edge of the wooden dining room table

  and holds the phone away from his mouth. “Is pizza okay and if so, what

  kind?”

  Pizza, not Pi, Amy. Keep your gaze up and stop thinking about where

  those infinite numbers stop. “Cheese. I like cheese.” I dart past him and

  head to the kitchen, needing space, needing to think.

  Once I’m behind the wall of the tiny, rectangular cracker box of a

  room, I wish I could take a jog. Running has been my salvation over the

  years, a way I found to block out the things that mess with my head.

  Instead, I just try to do anything I can to stay busy. I open cabinets to see if I

  have any supplies. The answer is no. No supplies, nothing to organize or

  clean. No place but Liam to put my mind and he’s no longer an escape. He’s

  just trouble.

  Pressing my hands to the counter, I let my head fall between my

  shoulders. I have nothing but the clothes I have on my back—or actually,

  that now lay on the hallway floor—and there is a billionaire standing a few

  feet away. The irony is hard to miss.

  Liam’s voice lifts, growing closer again, and it is deep and confident,

  from a man who owns his world when I do not own mine. I think maybe he

  owns it more than I do right now, and that is a sign I need that run and

  some time alone. I am weak tonight, but I will claw my way back to strength

  again. I will. I have no choice.

  I listen as he orders two large pizzas, one cheese and one pepperoni,

  and remembers my diet Sprite from the plane, which I am far too pleased

  about. The man is impossibly, frighteningly, involved in my world in all of

  one day. My crappy college boyfriend I’d gambled on, thinking he was my

  age, and far removed from my past and therefore safe, sure hadn’t known

  much about me. I’d thought that was good, another thing that made him

  safe, until I found my roommate’s legs around his neck.

  “Food and supplies should be here in about fifteen minutes.”

  I turn to find Liam standing under the archway of the kitchen entry,

  his dark hair rumpled, his broad and gloriously bare chest reminding me

  that I’m wearing his shirt. And while he is strikingly male, that is not what

  steals my breath in this moment. It’s the mix of tenderness and heat I find

  in his eyes.

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I whisper.

  “We both need to eat.”

  “That’s not what I mean, though I appreciate the food. You didn’t

  have to order the hotel to bring me things. That costs money, and—”

  He advances on me and I swallow the rest of my sentence. I start to

  back away but he is already in front of me, his hands on my waist. I suck in

  a breath, and just that fast, I’m on the counter, skirt up, knees apart, and

  the fingers of one of his hands tunnel into my hair. His mouth slants over

  mine, his tongue licking into my mouth, and he doesn’t taste tender. Not

  one little bit.

  He tastes like the raw, honest passion he’s promised this night will

  hold. And he tastes like me. It is a sultry, arousing thought. I sink deeper

  into the kiss, and this time, I am the one tangling my fingers into his dark

  hair.

  He reaches for my hand, covering it with his, tearing his mouth from

  mine. “I told you I do not do anything because I have to. And I don’t. But to

  be inside you right now, baby, I have to. I need to. And, yes—right here in

  the kitchen.” He pulls his shirt over my head and I don’t know where he

  tosses it. I am already wrapping my arms around him, pressing my naked

  breasts to his chest. He strokes a hand down my hair, brushing his lips over

  mine. “This isn’t going to be proper, but I’ll make it up to you, I promise. If I

  don’t find my way inside you now I won’t let you eat when the food

  arrives.”

  “The only thing you’ll have to make up to me is if someone comes to

  the door before this happens.”

  “They’ll wait if they have to,” he promises. “Put your hands on the

  counter behind your back.”

  “What?”

  “Do it, Amy. Let me look at you.”

  The inherent shyness life has taught me freezes me, and Liam seems

  to know immediately, but he is not discouraged. He presses my hands and

  molds them to the counter behind me with his own. “Leave them there.”

  I don’t speak. I am so nervous and aroused. He brushes his lips over

  mine. “Say ‘yes’, Amy.”

  “Yes,” I whisper, and he smiles.

  “You really are so damn sexy.”

  “I don’t feel sexy right now.”

  “Then what do you feel?”

  “Out of my league.” And it is a relief to actually say what I really feel.

  “If anyone is out of their league, baby, it’s me. You’re an angel and

  I’m…not.” He glances up at the ceiling, as if he’s struggling with something,

  before his stormy gaze returns to mine. “Maybe that’s the appeal for both

  of us. We’re different, dark and light. Right and wrong.

  Now, don’t move or I’ll show you just how not an angel I am.”

  The threat is darkly erotic, arousing, but it does not stop me from

  seeing pain and self-loathing deep beneath his surface that I relat
e to far

  too well. I want to know what made him, what drives him, what haunts him

  in the night, and I don’t care what he says. Something haunts him. And I

  want to be the angel he sees me as, when I know that I left that “me” in the

  past.

  I will never be an angel to anyone but him, and that will be a

  one-night façade. “I won’t move my hands, Liam. Not if you don’t want me

  to.”

  I watch his eyes dilate, darken, his jaw tightening into a hard line, and

  this is not the reaction I had hoped for. His hands move from mine to rest

  on my shoulders. “Now I’m going to fuck you, Amy.” There is a new

  gruffness to his tone, and I almost feel as if he’s trying to shock me, to

  prove that I’m the angel, and he is not. But then he drags his fingers

  downward, trailing over my breasts to caress my nipples. His touch is light,

  teasingly gentle, and when it is gone, I gasp with the deep ache in my sex,

  where I want him to be. “I don’t like the way you won’t let me touch you.”

  “You can touch me.” He unzips his pants and shoves them down, his

  hard cock jutting forward, thickly veined, and reaches in his pocket and

  pulls out his wallet. “Later.”

  I only have tonight. I only have tonight. “Promise me,” I insist, and for

  reasons I do not try to understand, I need his agreement. “I need you to

  promise me, Liam.” And my voice is raspy, filled with emotion that reaches

  beyond touching him. I want more and I don’t even know what “more” is.

  He sets his wallet on the counter, a wrapped condom now in his

  hand, and presses his palms to my knees. “I promise, Amy.” He leans in and

  kisses me, his mouth lingering on mine a moment, as if he is savoring me,

  and I feel the connection to this man in some deep part of my soul. I can’t

  explain it. Maybe I just need to create this in my mind to survive the day or

  justify what I am doing. But it is right for me now. He is right for me now.

  Slowly, he leans back, and it is as if a simmering fire sparks back into

  life. His gaze holds mine as he tears open the condom and discards the

  wrapper. My heart thunders in my ears and my sex aches with the

  emptiness in me that only he can fill. He looks down to roll the condom on,

  and I cannot help but think about how prepared he is, how normal this is

  for him. I do not have time for my mind to go crazy. He is quick and in

  seconds his mouth is back on mine, and each delicious swipe of his tongue

  seduces me more. He is a drug that delivers passion and escape.

  He tears his mouth away, watching me as he curves a hand under my

  backside and lifts me. His gaze lowers, raking over my breasts, heating my

  skin, and then his free hand wraps his cock and he slides it along the

  sensitive lips of my sex, back and forth, until I question how urgent he truly

  is, and I am panting with anticipation.

  “Please, Liam,” I whisper, far less shy now that I am desperate to feel

  him inside me.

  The instant I issue the plea, he reacts as if that was what he was

  waiting for. He presses inside me and drives deep, filling me, stretching me,

  and now both of his hands cup my backside, arching my hips just how he

  wants them. He sinks in, burying himself to the deepest part of my body,

  and pleasure slides over his features. “Oh yeah, baby. You feel like heaven.”

  He lowers his head and licks one of my nipples, then suckles, and the

  sensation spirals through me, straight to my lower belly. My sex clenches

  around him, and my hips arch.

  “Liam,” I pant, needing what he still hasn’t given me, needing him to

  move.

  His lips taste mine. “Say my name again.”

  “Liam,” I whisper, and I wonder why this appeals to him. What it

  means or if it means anything at all.

  “What do you want?” he asks, and his voice is gravelly, laden with

  desire. Desire for me.

  “You know what I want.”

  “Tell me.” He reaches between us and strokes my clit.

  “You know what I want.” My voice is louder now, laced with the

  urgency building inside me, and I wrap my legs around his hips, touching

  him the only way I can touch him.

  “Say it, Amy. It’s just you and me. Raw and honest. Give it to me.”

  Honest. That freedom is everything to me. “Fuck me. I want you to

  fuck me.”

  A look of pure male satisfaction rolls over his face, and he slides his

  hands around my back. “Hold on to my neck,” he commands. The instant I

  comply, he lifts me, melding my body to his, and he starts to pump, pulling

  me down on top of him at the same time. Pleasure nearly overwhelms me

  as each thrust of his cock sends shock waves of pleasure through my body. I

  do not know if I am actually on the counter or he’s just using it to brace our

  bodies, or his knees, I think, but I don’t care. I bury my head in his chest,

  and cling to him, the sound of his heavy breathing like silk stroking my

  nerve endings. I can feel his urgency, his need, and I am there with him,

  pushing into him, trying to meet him, take him, find that sweet spot that

  we both want.

  And it’s there, it’s there, and the sexy near growl that escapes his lips

  tells me it’s there for him, too. He grinds me against him, and my sex

  clenches around his cock, and I am shaking, or he is shaking. Maybe we

  both are. It’s a haze of pleasure rushing through my body, and I am

  clutching him and he me, and I feel the counter beneath me, his arms

  around my back.

  “That’s what you call fast,” he murmurs against my neck, kissing it

  and my ear before leaning back to search my face. “What are you doing to

  me, woman? I’m never…” He scrubs his jaw, seeming almost rattled, before

  his hands go to the counter at my hips. “Next time won’t be like that. Slow,

  baby. Nice and slow.”

  Next time. I am pleased with these words and stunned at the idea

  that I have affected this man on a level beyond his normal encounters. I

  surprise myself by smiling. “I didn’t even get to examine the many

  attributes of Pi.”

  His lips curve. “Baby, you can examine it, lick it, do whatever you

  want to do to it and me, after I feed you. I promised. I meant it.”

  Lick it. Yes. Please. Promise. I am not used to promises. I will take this

  one and put it to good use. He pulls out of me and I gasp. “Warning,

  please.”

  He laughs, a gentle lion’s laugh, deep and sensual. I love that laugh.

  “We have to get you dressed before someone shows up at the door.” He

  sets me on the ground and eyes the condom and motions to the other

  room. “I’ll be right back.” He heads out of the kitchen, probably to the

  bathroom, and I suddenly realize I don’t even have basics like toilet paper.

  Now this is truly embarrassing. I’ll have to find a twenty-four-hour store

  and get some basic stuff. That’s all there is to it.

  I wiggle my skirt down my hips, and snatch up his shirt, but I don’t

  put it on. Liam will need it to answer the door. His words play in my mind.

  Be inside you now. I have to. I smile to myself at the idea of making a man

  like Lia
m “have” to do anything, and I hunt down my panties, bra, and

  blouse—which appears to be missing a middle button. Nothing like a gaping

  front to show off your bra. Heading to the living room, I can hear Liam

  talking to someone on the phone from the bedroom, telling them how to

  find the entrance to the building. Knowing we will have company soon, I

  quickly shove my clothes into my carry-on bag and pull out the airport

  t-shirt I bought before leaving New York.

  “The bellman is coming up the elevator now,” Liam says, rounding

  the doorway just as I pull the t-shirt into place. Stopping dead in his tracks,

  his expression turns suddenly stormy and intense.

  Feeling more than a little awkward at his reaction, I hold up his shirt.

  “I thought you might need this and I tore the button off of my blouse.”

  He stalks forward and stops directly in front of me. “I have never

  hated an ‘I love New York’ t-shirt more than the one you have on.”

  His voice is a tightly pulled cord. He’s angry and I’m baffled. “You

  hate ‘I love New York’ shirts?”

  “I hate what it says about your situation.” A knock sounds on the

  door, but he doesn’t move. Silence ticks between us and I think he has to

  be able to hear the thunder of my heart.

  Another knock and he turns away, pulling his shirt over his head as

  he stomps toward the door.

  I wet my dry lips and stare down at the shirt, and I feel like an ice pick

  is chipping away at my nerve endings. I hate what this shirt says about my

  life, too. And I hate that Liam knows what it says about my life. I hate it

  because it means I have to make tonight our only night. I knew that

  already, but I also know a part of me was slipping into a fantasyland where I

  could allow Liam to be my Prince Charming for just a little bit longer. I’m

  back now, though. I’m back in reality and no matter what happens tonight,

  I won’t forget that it translates to one thing and one thing only. Alone.

  Chapter Seven

  Liam has done his best to convert my apartment into his penthouse

  suite for me.

  I wait by what is supposed to be my new kitchen table where two

  pizzas fresh from the hotel kitchen wait on us, and listen as Liam sees two

  hotel staff members out the front door, no doubt tipping them well. In all

  of fifteen minutes since their arrival I have everything I would have had,